Luyện nghe bài hát No Equal

(Number One
Competition is none) -->

[ 1: Ju-Ju ]
Niggas got me steamin, bout to my lid
Fuck around, and I to blow your back out, kid
(Boom!) Not to say I'm on a tip
But my stays on my gun, in case you start some shit
Cause I rhymin since way back when
Straight up and from the heart is how it's always
Now punk niggas wanna me
But all that tiggedy-tiggedy tongue-twistin shit don't me
It's a phase, and you know damn well
That you'll fall off in a minute, that shit don't sell
Funny how you you could surpass me, or outlast me
that bullshit style, you're fallin fast, gee
See, I suggest you go back where you came
(Your mic, and my mic) on, don't play, son
See, the of payin dues is over
I'm a fed up, and it's time that I show ya
We battle one time, dead, no sequel
(Your mic, and my mic - come on yo, no equal) -->

You know number one
Competition is

[ VERSE 2: Les ]
The Psycho Les drops it like a lunatic
back-breakin bitches with my super dick
Hat's on the jim, I nut in em
St. fucks up their eyes, and I bend em
Down, while I'm flowin to nutty sound
up the knapsack, check out what we found
H-h-horns, bass,
Beats get chopped in the Nut Shop, we don't time
Yo, I'm lampin' like Flavor
Floatin at the top while you're sick, and 'nothin can ya'
like the Biz said
Remember - uugh! - styles I to be, what is it?
(The shizzit) Word to your
I bend your girl a comma
Due to Lambada, I think I
Stop, because the said, "(???)"
So I nutted, and I got out
(Boom!) No matter how hot you claim to be, you roast this
Nut, what's up? You wanna get eaten up a hostess?
'Cup', 'cake', you know my are lethal
(Your mic, and my mic - on yo, no equal)

[ 3: Fashion (Al' Tariq) ]
Every line I connect, my literature's
Per minute, per second, and yo, you gotta
On with Fashion, cause by the way I'm things
Whoever thinks I take a loss has
Young dames, I em and Jimmy aims to knock her
Sex with flex, best thing tends to lock up
Yeah, really bad ass, past you niggas
The chicks I stick shit with, I your figures
Triggers, I em with no remorse for bodies
Fash the hotties, chumps pump with shoties
Shoot em up, bang-bang! targets rarely
Mics I touch up, I em daily
Barely who can test the cool Fash
Asses I kick in the ashes, trashes
So don't riff, cause I flow like the Nile, son
Tame is for Jane fame, I'm a wild one
Auto-matic-ly I let the
MC-i-n-g force in me
Cool Fash, sendin a to rap people
(Your mic, and my mic - on yo, no equal)